


The Brown Bag

by JessFaulks



Series: Space Debris [2]
Category: Sci-Fi - Fandom, dickgirl - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Futa, Futanari, Multi, Shemale, dickgirl, scifi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessFaulks/pseuds/JessFaulks
Summary: For Captain Rhiannon McDonnell, these conservative, backwater, deep-space, refueling stations were a mixed blessing: On one hand, her kind weren’t welcomed by most but sometimes small-town girls got curious about their exotic visitors. After being denied service, she finds her consolation prize much more preferable.
Series: Space Debris [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766779





	The Brown Bag

**Author's Note:**

> For Captain Rhiannon McDonnell, these conservative, backwater, deep-space, refueling stations were a mixed blessing: On one hand, her kind weren’t welcomed by most but sometimes small-town girls got curious about their exotic visitors. After being denied service, she finds her consolation prize much more preferable.

**The Brown Bag**

_By Jess Faulks_

Captain Rhiannon McDonnell wasn't halfway between the swinging, stainless steel doors and her intended stool when the brick-shithouse-of-a-man behind the bar noticed and sized her up. Gloss-black , featureless eyes made his exact focus less apparent but she knew the look: it was the one everyone in a position of authority gave in these off-route, interstellar truck stops.

Every Alliance refueling station was a marvel of two-hundred-year old technology, a mass-manufactured, mile-wide ring interspersed through deep space. Culturally, that never seemed to do them any favors and local, 'portie' bloodlines would not leave one for generations, raised on a limited and latent flow of Alliance regulated, corporate entertainment products and messaging. Each was a self-sufficient, backwater town of a few thousand, floating in the middle of nothingness, a light year away from the next one.

Rhiannon stopped with an unamused glare, presenting herself for judgment, her palms out and open at her side to show she was unarmed, at least visibly. The bar was kept a blue-hued darkness but for some colored, neon lights and maybe he wouldn't notice anything else. A long moment passed of him appraising her from head to toe and when he found what he looked for, he started shaking his head before he opened his mouth.

"We don't serve your kind here. You gotta go." Thick, pythons of powerful arms crept across his broad chest to fold, presenting tribal patterns nano-tattooed on them in high contrast to his dark skin, their smooth edges turning sharp and the greens and blues shifting to reds and oranges, in a display of some wealth or at least, extreme dedication to the art or lifestyle. Most porties couldn't afford such tech. Heads turned from the other four patrons in a barroom which could seat ten times that many.

Rhiannon deflated with a sigh, sizing up the scene and her eyes naturally found the one woman in the bar first. A thin, cute blonde, hardly old enough to be here sat with a pair of folded glasses sitting next to her clear, iced beverage . Alliance Stations like these were absurdly strict about liquor sales. They were inspected randomly and frequently so this girl had to be at least 21.

She wore a grey, civilian jumpsuit and studied Rhiannon with another familiar sort of attention: the shocked, never-seen-her-kind-before face but minus the "'..and I hate you' part. This was the kind of longing stare which typically came before a backalley romp with some spacer floozy looking to expand her horizons, whose name she never bothered to ask. Seated at the far end of the bar, furthest from the others, she didn't look like she quite belonged either.

This was no time for flirting. Not yet. She had to run the gauntlet first and her attention moved on. Two of the other patrons were dockworkers by their beige jumpsuits, in their forties or fifties and drinking on their lunch break. At the far end of the bar sat an old man, at least seventy and sickly, with his jaw halfway to the counter under eyes that had latched on her tits.

Should things turn violent, the barman was the only real threat in here but she couldn't afford a fight. Her ship, The Hecate needed to be hooked up for refueling for the next three hours, and she needed to stay out of the brig for that long.

A stray clump of auburn hair fell into her face, the ends brushing her chin as she moved subtly, fighting against taking defensive body language. She was a Captain, not a troublemaker. At least not anymore. "My kind?" Sometimes playing dumb worked when the lighting was low.

The man stabbed an arm out toward a sign behind the bar without having to take his eyes off her. In capitalized, bold red letters it read:

_NO SPLITS SERVED._

"You're being a bit presumptuous, don't you think?" she said curtly but the barman didn't waiver.

"I can see your fucking freak, donkey dick down your pant leg. Why don't you try actually dressing like a woman if you want to pass for normal? Though your fat, cow tits would still give you away. "

Like any split had never tried that, Her clothes weren't directly revealing: a tailored, brown three-piece suit of trousers, a blouse and a tailcoat. There was only so much she could conceal with the extremes of her build beneath, short of wearing a burlap sack and why should she have to do that? it wasn't her fault. These were the people who had the problem.

"She could be from Proxima B!" the old man at the end of the bar barked up with a shaky voice. The barman glared sideways without moving his head.

"Jesus, Bob. Can't you see she's got a fucking dick bigger than mine? People are gonna wonder about you if you keep staring."

"I'm not asking you to suck it. I just want a drink."

"Then go somewhere else."

"Is there another shithole bar in this shithole station?"

"No."

Rhiannon took another deep breath and turned her attention to the others. The blonde had put on her glasses now for a better look at her and her expression had gone from _interested_ to _please fuck me_. Repressed, porties curious about Split lovers were the saving grace of places like this and Rhiannon had three hours to kill.

'Portie girls party,' one of her younger crew-girls would joke, and she wasn't wrong. It was also one of the reasons why their counterparts, portie boys liked to try to beat up splits like her. Those boys were often oblivious to how many of her kind had been sent off to military school by disappointed parents when they started to develop in ways they had not anticipated. Many of those girls had grown up to fill out the more dangerous companies of the Army, Space Force or Marines and if portie boys knew what most split veterans had survived, they would reconsider crossing them.

With a tilt of the head and a sliver of a smile, Rhiannon acknowledged and the younger woman caught exactly what was being thrown. First, she needed to be allowed to the bar and hopefully soon after, a restroom stall with this lovely, young thing.

The two dockworkers watched the confrontation as any bystander would, curious but not getting involved. The old man was undeterred in his leering.

"This place is dead and you need the business. I'll buy a round for everyone."

"No dice, lady. Go back to your ship and wait with whatever freak crew lets you serve."

"It's my ship."

"Go back to it. I'm not gonna ask again."

Something changed in the scene. A chip card appeared on the counter in front of the blonde, waiting to pay with expectant eyes on her. Her amorous demeanor was only more obvious and Rhiannon smiled only enough to not offend the barman. "Fine. I'm gone." On her boot heel, she turned sharply and walked back out through the double, swinging doors into the poorly lit, hexagonal hallway of whatever this place was called. These pipe and ducting-lined corridors were generally well-lit on stations closer to the Sol system but out here it was normal for the sunlight-frequency lighting to have every two or three fixtures, saving power but kept the hallway a dim yellow. She continued far enough to not be seen from the scratched up and dirty windows of the bar. Out of sight of the barman, she leaned back against a pipe-covered wall and waited.

Less than a minute passed before the young woman burst out the doors and she exhaled with relief to see the Captain waiting for her, pushing off to stand upright. "Hi there," Rhiannon purred, a sultry layer added now to her alto voice. "Something I can help you with?"

The girl lowered her head slightly and brushed a curly, blond lock from her face. "I've never met a real split before. I've never even seen one outside of... pictures."

She raised a brow and held back her grin. "Pictures? I can't think of any intersex celebrities in the UA. I don't think they'd broadcast any that were."

The girl blushed. "They say that Serena Stardancer is a split."

"The singer? They just say that because she has a huge rack."

"I've seen some shots where you can see she has a bulge, like you. She claims they're altered, but they look pretty real to me."

The Captain of a star ship should know better than to argue about pop stars with someone just past teenage so prudently, she nodded. "Hey, we shouldn't hang out in front of this place for long. Did you want to go somewhere with me?"

The girl blushed deeper before giving a single, shallow nod. The smile on Rhiannon's face widened, and she offered her hand but the girl gave a small shake of her head. "Not in public." She brushed past her to lead the way.

"So you're from... this place?"

"Gallup S5? Born and raised. I've never been anywhere else. I just had my 21st birthday so now I can be an honest alcoholic like all the other dock workers. Until then, there was literally nothing to do. I'd work, get drunk, huff solvents and beat off in VR."

"So you need me to get you out of here?"

The girl stopped and turned around, recoiling with some surprise. After a long moment, she shook her head. "This is where I live. My friends are here. My life is here." Rhiannon only blinked before giving a small nod, backing away with her posture. "No, I just want to see your dick. The barman was right: it's like a donkey's. I know splits are hung but you're like, Upright hung."

"You have Uprights on..." What was that name again? She deliberately tried to ignore names of places like this, only good for not running out of fuel in deep space. " Gallup S5? Or..."

"Pictures," she said with a coy smile before turning and leading the way again. Of course they didn't. This place was too small for the Alliance-regulated segregation of the genetically-engineered servant class of humanoid animals. She'd never seen one in even a larger Alliance or Galactic Republic station but knew they were there, busily working in the lower decks. Uprights only intermingled with humans in the near-lawless, extraterritorial space and very infrequently, in remote Europa stations.

The girl led them down corridors after corridor, getting further from the populated parts of the station. The sparse crowd thinned as they went until they hadn't seen another person for the last three turns and they were now deep into service areas. The Captain reassured herself that her wristcom Lidar-mapped the route as she walked via the pearl-sized earring antennae she wore so she'd have precise directions back to the hangar. This place was backwater enough for other concerns with running off with a strange girl. Could she be bait for a mob of split-hating locals waiting to kick the shit out of her up ahead? Had she called them somehow from the bar? It would be quite the performance for a station girl to be acting so eager. Rhiannon had fought in wars and wasn't scared of a few local thugs, but she did have her slimline derringer pistol along the side of her torso in her jacket just in case, occasionally nudging the back curve of her breast with cold steel.

"You sure you know where you're going?"

"Yup, I work around this part of the station. No one else comes here. I mean, I bring my boyfriend out here to fool around so our parents can't catch us."

"Your boyfriend?"

"He's fine with me messing around with other girls. Just not boys."

Rhiannon bit her lip and considered the statement but this wasn't the time or place to be questioning this girl's cognitive dissonance.

The last corner ended at a service panel for some auxiliary system of the station and thankfully, not an ambush of angry, portie, no-neck boys. The girl turned to face her and slipped her glasses off but instead of putting them away, her index fingers tapped along the tops of their frame.

"What are you doing?"

The girl pushed them back on and drank in Rhiannon before giving a breathy swoon. "Perfect. I'm adjusting these for the light. They're old." With that she stepped up and mashed her body against hers, and shoved the Captain against the back wall, grinding herself against Rhiannon's brown, buttoned-up tailcoat enough to pop a button right off, clinking against metal walls and floors into oblivion. Youthful hips met the bulge of her poorly hidden endowment, an eager thigh rubbing along it. The girl did not anticipate the ergonomics of making out above such a bust as hers and her first attempt to meet her lips didn't quite reach. Falling short, she buried her face in her blouse instead, mashing her nose and cheeks into clothed cleavage while her fingers moved to dig into her collar rather than going straight for the top button.

"Whoah, careful girl! I didn't bring a change of clothes. "Rhiannon slapped lightly at her hand before taking her shoulders and guiding her back. "I guess you've never seen a rack like this either?"

"Only Serena Stardancer, but she's never done nudes. Show me those big girls."

She paused for a moment to reflect on the comparison. Serena Stardancer must be quite a hit at this station, but she was too old herself to keep up on those kinds of trends. These remote stations got their interstellar media delivered on recorded quantum drives from the entertainment corporations, sometimes as seldom as twice a year so it wasn't uncommon for their taste in music, movies and shows to be narrow and dated. That was an odd thing to say regardless.

The girl before her was strange but eager enough and so she teased her with a slow unbuttoning, first of the tailored tailcoat, freeing the remaining two, vintage brass buttons. She shrugged it off and to her feet, careful of the holstered pistol concealed within, all the while the girl stared at her blouse-wrapped chest, her mouth agape with quickening breath. "Maybe you should take your clothes off too?"

The girl nodded and obliged, stepping out of her boots on the metal, mesh floor, with a wince before she unzipped her jumpsuit and peeled it off with practiced grace. She wore only a cheap, black bra and matching panties now, revealing soft, pleasant curves between bony features boasting more of youth than any active lifestyle. With her clothes tossed aside, she stepped back into her boots to cope with the uncomfortable floor. "Hurry up and get undressed!"

The Captain of a ship wasn't used to being bossed around, even in these kinds of intimate settings but the girl knew what she wanted. She unbuttoned her blouse quickly and tossed it aside with her jacket, revealing a white, semigloss sports bra with thick, broad shoulder and side straps, keeping her abundant breasts in place. Centered over her cleavage on the front-top was a small logo in the center like a Venn diagram, a B inside one circle and an H in the other: _BoulderHolders_ were a cheeky, luxury brand of activewear specifically for women of her figure. They were a Proxima B-based company whose active, low-friction nanomesh material would dampen, restrain, support and distribute the size and weight the most cumbersome of endowments.

 _Don't get in your own way,_ the adverts would say, hinting that breast-reduction nanosurgery, a popular, permanent and government-subsidized procedure wasn't necessary for an active lifestyle so long as you bought their very expensive bras. They were right though and it was the best purchase she could remember, aside from her ship and now she owned several of them in different cuts for various occasions. This one, her favorite was old enough to have the previous version of their logo on it. At the moment with her present company, she remembered their current spokesmodel was the busty pop-star from Proxima B: Serena Stardancer.

Rhiannon reached behind her to deactivate the patented _active nano-fit_ feature and her breasts fell several inches to take a more natural shape before she tugged the bra off over her head, exposing her trembling, naked bosom, each breast the size of her head.

The girl lunged for them, attacking soft, pale flesh with hands and mouth, squeezing and kissing, holding and lifting, her delicate hands dwarfed by their obscene scale. Lack of experience with such proportions was obvious but made up for by her enthusiasm and it was working for Rhiannon, who groaned quietly as she felt herself throbbing to life down her pant leg.

"You like 'em huge like this, don't you? There are a lot of busty girls with big dicks on my ship, you know." Sometimes mentioning that would convince them to come back with her for some group fun. The crew always appreciated that.

The girl didn't acknowledge, continuing to lavish her breasts with attention, easing down to squat lower until she was face-to-crotch with Rhiannon, a distinct outline of her half-swollen cock reaching down her thigh over testicles of proportionate size, easy to see the shapes of in her tight pants, with any kind of decent lighting. Fingers released her belt, an old-fashioned buckle that matched her pseudo space-cowgirl style then opened the button and zipper of her fly to expose the top of her girthy cock, surrounded by a neatly trimmed patch of reddish pubic hair. The girl dove in and took a deep inhale of it's powerful scent before giving it a kiss.

Bent down for the moment, the girl shifted to a squat before tugging at the outside of Rhiannon's trousers, revealing more and more of her thick thighs and cock. "Jesus, your balls are like my fists."

"We're going to make a mess." Rhiannon smiled, reaching down to caress her, the girl out of sight beneath her chest in her current position. The tugging had her pants almost down to her knees before her semi-stiff girldick sprung free and bumped the girl in the face with a lazy tap.

"Holy shit! You might be bigger than an upright!" The girl took a moment to marvel at the monstrous girlcock before her, hanging forward and swaying, half-hard from her attention. "I don't know if it will fit."

"It will if we're careful," Rhiannon assured, guiding the girl's head to her cock purely by feel, but she closed the last of the gap on her own. The first thing she felt was a tongue slide under her half-retracted foreskin, and she sucked in a sharp breath of delight. "Mmmm. Good girl." She was ambitious and moved closer still, carefully working her mouth around the broad curve of her glans, getting lips almost entirely around it before wincing and withdrawing.

"It's too much." She shook her head but undeterred, leaned in again, one hand hefting her scrotum while the other started to stroke the swelling shaft which her delicate fingers could only reach halfway around. Eagerly, her mouth moved in to kiss and lick along her length, veins becoming more prominent. Rhiannon swelled with arousal, her foreskin peeling back until she reached a full, towering erection of a scale that would have been both unnatural and record-worthy for a person less than two hundred years before.

It remained a hotly-debated subject within politics if 'splits,' a slang that had at one time been considered derogatory, were still human at all but despite fringe theories about aliens, they were scientifically provable to be. Intersex people were nothing new to scientific literate communities but the United Alliance liked to argue against that on their platform of ambiguous values and tradition. What had changed dramatically as mankind proliferated through the galaxy into all manner of new worlds, was how common they were. What called into question their status as homo sapiens even by the liberal-leaning scientific community were the other traits that had begun to manifest: splits often measured stronger, tougher and taller than either "mono" sex. Less agreed-upon studies suggested higher IQs and in blind tests, they were commonly found to be more traditionally attractive. Not unrelated, they were far more likely to possess hyper-sexualized and hyper-fertile traits, like extra-wide hips, hypermastia or the horse-worthy erection of Rhiannon's which now filled the face of this young, portie girl.

"Why don't you bend over for me, sweetie. I know you're thinking about it." She considered making sure the girl's own needs were better taken care of before moving right to intercourse, but she was being used as a novelty. This had happened in enough small towns and remote space ports that she'd wiped her conscience clear. Good loving was for good, giving lovers. This girl wanted to fuck a split so she would. Hell, she would probably still cum, if only from how thick she was. Rhiannon still had an obligation to represent her people as quality partners, but she wasn't going to go out of her way for this one.

The girl was far enough away to see the top of her head and she reluctantly pulled herself back, shaking her head. "Face me. I want to watch you."

Rhiannon gave a soft smile and a nod before guiding her to turn her around. "Let me finish undressing you." The girl nodded in concession before she reached out to unclasp her bra in the center of her back, freeing pert, youthful breasts, while her cock poked into her asscheek, along the bottom of her pantie line. With care, she lifted it away and passed it off to the girl to finish removing. Kisses peppered down her bare spine to the crack of her rump, fingers teasing at her panties before peeling them down. "Mmmm, you've got a great ass. You know splits love anal, right?" She raises a brow, her face mashed into a cheek and her cock twitched at the thought.

"Gross. No, I want you inside me but not there!"

"So conservative," she mused with a chuckle before guiding her panties down to her feet with care. "Step." The girl obliged and Rhiannon pulled them over her boots, one foot, then the other. Squatted low, with her own pants still around her ankles, she reached over for her jacket and laid it out over the mesh floor, careful not to sit on the gun. With some adjustment, she slipped off her shoes, then her trousers, no underwear beneath. _BoulderHolders_ had a new line of split-oriented, active, nanomesh boxer-briefs to match their bras but they were only sold in the Europa and extra-territorial systems and they weren't available for her size anyway. _Soon_ , the saleswoman assured her.

Rhiannon's full nudity was now exposed. She adjusted her weight to her rear then put her shoes back on before spreading her legs, her erection rubbing precum over her chest as she maneuvered. "Come here. Sit on it. See how much you can take."

With a trepidatious bite of her lower lip and nod, the girl walked over, stepping one leg over Rhiannon, who held her cock upright in her two-handed grip "Oh God, it's enormous. I hope it fits."

"It'll fit," she replied, bracing herself as the girl eased herself into a half-squat, her hands on her knees to help support her until the head of her eager dick wedged against wet, ready lips. Her young lover was as eager as she was and weight started to descend, pressure building against her, strain crunching her expression. Tightness resisted their scale difference at first and the soft flesh around their union bulged in displacement before the long, girlcock beneath bowed, loading up like a spring. Finally the tension gave and it launched upward, several inches in an instant.

The girl squealed, high and shrill, somewhere between being pleasured and being wounded and Rhiannon waited, knowing this moment well from first-timers with that kind of noise: she was either about to climb right back off and give up or she was going to push herself, desiring the challenge, wanting more than the sensation but true intimacy with an over-endowed split like herself. "Ohgodohgodohgod. You're huge! So fucking huge!"

Breathing came quick and sharp like a woman in labor, holding herself steady with a few inches of Rhiannon's thickness inside her, trying to adjust to the size of it. "Hardest part is over. Come on, you can do this," Rhiannon assured, seeing the conflict in her eyes.

Through those thick glasses, the girl gazed down at her lover and how much space there still was between them but her eyes caught her heavy, naked breasts then eventually her face. That straining expression softened as she stared before a sigh of adoration swept over her. After the curiously long look, she gave a small nod and a deep swallow before working herself up to move again, even if it was only over the same few inches of her.

Rhiannon's hands crawled up her vein-riddled girlcock that bridged their bodies, coming up to hold her by her hips, not able to reach much further. Her young lover was easing her way down, back and forth at a glacial pace, her cries shrill and straining. Still, the pleasure in them was growing and the intensity of endurance was only half-masking an expression of sheer joy. Around her girth, it was always a delight to be inside some tight, young thing and this was no different, but she was barely using the whole head of her dick and there was so much more of it that needed attention . She breathed deep and quickly, an occasional wince at the clenching grip of her body.

The girl was sinking deeper as she found her cadence, until over half of Rhiannon's cock was inside her and she seemed to be nearing her limits. Lunging forward, she planted her hands on the wall for some support and leaned in as she hung over her older lover, riding with shaky knees. "I can't believe it fits! I feel like I'm going to split in two," she said with awe and strain, looking between her face and the gap that remained between them still.

For her position, Rhiannon resisted the urge to thrust, letting the girl find her limits, something that was always a part of the process with anyone who wasn't an experienced split or upright-lover. Her own breathing was quick and shallow while her delicate touch explored more of the girl's firm, youthful flesh. Hair was falling in her face again and she gave her head a shake, knowing the messy-haired, pouty-faced expressions that drove lovers crazy.

The girl reached down almost instantly , brushing her hair back and holding it there. "Show me your face!" she demanded and Rhiannon gave a surprised, quick nod in reply. She was an aggressive one!

"Whatever you want. Maybe we should get more comfortable though." Hands moved out and stretched to grab the girl's jumpsuit then laid it out beside them, against her jacket as a makeshift blanket to protect them from the metal grate floor. She moved slowly then, turning herself to lie down, before making sure it was spread out enough for her lover's knees. The girl obliged, moving down on all fours with obvious relief then hovered above Rhiannon before easing her weight back and down until she was laying across her torso. "That's better, right?" She nodded. "Whew. I don't think you wanted to fall on the whole thing but you can if you really want to!"

The girl found her rhythm more easily now that she wasn't squatting over her and soon she moved with confidence and experience, settling in to the new sensation of such size and girth inside her. "You really come here with your boyfriend? I've had sex in some uncomfortable places but this is up there. It'd be a lot easier on our feet."

"I want to see your face! Your huge tits!" she snapped back and took her hands to those breasts where they were rolling lazily aside from their own weight, giving them a lively fondle before pushing them together, like a child playing in water. Young hips pushed back and she sucked in a sharp breath while managing to fit still more inside her. Rhiannon's hands took handfuls of ass cheeks, flattening and rolling them around her palms, helping her find her rhythm while she eased into gentle thrusts of her own.

The girl acknowledged with a pleasant chirp of surprise and delight, laying across Rhiannon with her face hanging over hers, just out of kissing distance. Fiery eyes studied every detail and feature of her with an appreciation that she wasn't used to. This was more than some bored station girl expanding her horizons with a novelty fuck. The last time anyone looked at her like this, they were cooing 'I love yous' in her arms minutes later. The girls that were buttering her up for a ride somewhere else didn't try this hard. She opened her mouth to speak and Rhiannon braced for the awkwardness.

"Do you like my little pussy? Is it choking your freak, monster dick?"

That wasn't why she was wincing but it was a better story and she gave a quick nod. "You're so tight it kind of hurts." Her face told that she took it as a compliment.

A mutual rhythm came to match their writhing bodies and the girl was vocalizing at the right balance of pleasure and strain, moving her hips this way and that to grind them together and find new sensations inside herself. Shrill noises from the younger woman were growing shorter and higher. She had discovered what worked best and her eyes widened with the obvious realization that she was close to cumming.

Rhiannon bore her white teeth under full, red lips in a wince of strain, the grate floor digging into her back more as the girl rode her more confidently, working her towards an impending climax. She could hold on a bit a longer. Once the portie girl came, she could be as selfish as she wanted.

Her young lover eased herself up from laying across Rhiannon to be more upright, her hands pushing into her shoulders, then her breasts as she purposefully brought more weight down on her cock. Riding harder, her voice grew higher still until it was a shrill staccato to match the sharp, deliberate drops of her youthful body, quaking every soft part of the both of them.

Even as she winced in discomfort, Rhiannon couldn't help but be impressed by the young woman's assertiveness. The girl knew what she wanted and went for it. Save for the restrained thrusting of her hips and her lover's fawning admiration, she may as well have been a dildo in the moment for her contributions.

The cries of orgasm were unrestrained and indiscreet for the lengths they'd gone to, to avoid the station's bustle. The girl was wide-eyed and screaming in manic bliss, forcing herself down Rhiannon's cock to her absolute limits. While an impressive feat but she failed to conquer the whole thing but that was typical for most girls. Her youthful lover was practically feral in the moment and she reached up to help stabilize her, holding enough to prevent her from falling off.

Bodies were damp with sweat now and Rhiannon waited for the girl's shattering orgasm to wane before she scooped her up eased her off the floor. "Put your arms around me," she ordered then stood for the both of them, pulling thighs around her own waist. The girl shrieked as the movement tried to push more girlcock inside her, eyes shooting wide open. It was only for a moment and she sighed relief when properly supported in her grip. Once stable, Rhiannon pinned her to the wall and dove in for a kiss, a lustful, sucking compression of full, hungry lips which was returned with bliss-drunk enthusiasm. Face to face, she started to hammer her own hips in quick, sharp thrusts, right to her limits. She squealed out in delighted reaction, her eyes falling to fixate on the giant breasts that dwarfed her own and how they rolled like the tide, pinned between two bodies.

"I'm on the chip so cum inside me. I want to feel it." The girl's voice was soft and lazy now in the aftermath of her orgasm.

Rhiannon had assumed as much and was planning to but she nodded like it was new information. "Me too." Most working class people could afford the chip and in some Alliance stations, they were mandatory and networked, to prevent unpredictable and unsustainable population surges. There was a male-reproductive organ version that blocked her sperm, which she'd gotten shortly after she turned 30 but predictably, that was one only ever mandated on Europa stations where they paid more lip-service to equality and the Galactic Republic, where they made no qualms about the need for control over their people.

Her thrusts were straining the both of them, her strong legs flexed hard, working up a full sweat as she supported and fucked her young lover, hair starting to stick to her face and the grip of her thighs becoming less sure. Feeling the sweat start to cool, she became more aware of the gap that still remained between them, the familiar curse of her own endowment which few regular human women could manage without nano-modification. She'd lived with her freakish size for a lifetime and had learned what worked but it just took some time and effort.

The girl reached out to brush back Rhiannon's hair again, holding it back and out of her face. Exhaustion had joined the strain now but she was trying her best to persevere. "Are you almost..."

Rhiannon clenched her face and blushed. They'd been at it for some time now and she was feeling that underlying fatigue too, lurking beneath her lustful need for release. "Let me turn you around." This time, the girl nodded.

With an exhale of relief, she squatted before letting the girl's slippery thighs fall free until her boots were on the mesh floor. She pulled out and spun her around, the girl catching and bracing herself on the wall before Rhiannon took her hips and mounted her to a sharp gasp. Hands wrapped around her body as she closed the gap between them until her pelvis was against the girl's ass, hearing her breathing change as she filled her again, her remaining length less obvious in this position.

This was going to work. She was thrusting hard, each punctuated by a squeal from the girl, angling herself to saw her swollen girldick this way and that in a race against exhaustion. It was working, the familiar sensation swelling from her loins and a second wind washed over her, enough to fuck with determined vigor. The girl was hanging on by a thread but Rhiannon was so close. So close! Finally: blissful, glorious release!

"Hnnnnghhhhhh!" She tensed, nearly convulsing in the final moments before she came like a bucket of paint kicked over. Neutralized, girl semen spilled out like a tidal wave against the shore of the girl's insides, filling an already tight space suddenly much more full. She collapsed over her back and wrapped her arms around her lower stomach, the sensation of flesh displaced from her girth against her inner arm while using her for support as her shaking nerves and tired muscles struggling to keep her on her feet.

The girl cried out in strain and awe, threatening to cramp from the fullness and Rhiannon drew back to adjust, easing the pressure then pushed forward again to plunge some out, thick, waterfalls of semen pouring out of their joining, out on the mesh floor and whatever was below.

Her chin perched over the girl's shoulder, breathing heavily and brushing along her repeatedly-pierced ear, eyes lidding as her climax finally started to wane, her hands still moving over sweaty skin, caressing. The curves of her features were beautiful, even from this angle, with high cheekbones, full lips and strong chin. She liked this one.

In the muted lighting of the hallway, blue and orange caught her eye. Was it a refraction from the back of the girl's thick lenses? No, it was the glasses themselves. The lenses were illuminated in a way that could only be seen from behind and this close, she saw discreet buttons in the arms and frame itself. Had she been recording this?!

The girl was panting and exhausted as well so it was easy enough to discreetly creep a hand up her back until she smoothly plucked the glasses off her head and put them on. "Hey!"

Rhiannon stepped back, uncorking a mess of cum, reaching out toward the wall to steady herself and looked around, trying to make sense of an unfamiliar Augmented Reality interface. It looked fairly standard for an AR virtual assistant and most importantly, there was no flashing red, "record" dot. So what was it? Was the girl blind? Everything was in focus though and Rhiannon's vision was as perfect as humanly possible without ocular cybernetics. Nothing looked different except for the UI, a standard-looking, AR user interface. Were they just a fashion accessory? AR glasses hadn't been in style for decades, replaced with wristcoms and holo-contacts or implants but this place might be backwater enough for that not to matter.

"Give those back!" The girl rose and turned around to reach for them, her face warping abruptly to another, an unnatural morph of shapes, as if her face were momentarily made of clay. Rhiannon jumped back, bracing herself as her brain tried ro process just what she was seeing before she tugged the glasses down the bridge of her nose: nothing was wrong. It was the same as it had been, with the face she'd followed here. The girl stood there, reaching out for them but not trying to snatch them away.

"What the fuck?" Rhiannon lifted them again and watched the girl's face shift in ways that were not possible., her cheeks rising and her jaw broadening. The morph was subtle enough to not be seen as a digital effect and instead was eerily supernatural. In moments, she was a much more glamorous kind of beautiful but this was more than computer-aided makeup. Her entire facial structure was being remapped as a completely different one, driven by her own expressions. It was a familiar face that didn't take long to recognize. A celebrity face.

"Did you just brown-bag me for Serena Stardancer?!"

The girl froze in full admission of guilt but Rhiannon couldn't see how much she was blushing until she tugged the glasses back down. "You're built exactly like her."

A flood of emotions and replies came to mind and her first instinct was to lash out at the insult but that was no way for a Captain to behave. "I told you, Serena Stardancer is not a split. We can tell."

The girl's mouth crinkled into a guilty smile. "She is to me. Even more so now."

"So you weren't... into me?"

"No!" the girl shook her head. "That's not it at all. You're smoking hot. Especially for your age."

"My age?!"

Rhiannon did not look as old as she was and it was far from an insecurity for her. Staying young-looking was easy to do for those with the means. She'd gone to some lengths to be sure her skin remained youthful and healthy while maintaining a natural appearance, restoring aged cells the expensive way rather than augmenting them for a smooth but plasticine look. She was mature but there were no laugh lines or crow's feet to be found on her face. Besides, splits tended to be better looking from her own anecdotal experience and she and her crew were almost certainly the most beautiful women on this station. That wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

"Yeah. I mean, your skin is amazing but I'd guess you're old enough to be my mom."

Rhiannon gave a small shrug. "So?"

"Like... you could be my dad. It's super weird. Really, you're smoking hot and maybe I would have gone for you regardless. You'd have been able to seduce me. I'm not usually that forward with anyone but I wanted to know what it was like with Serena Stardancer and you matched her body type so well. I'm her biggest fan and I've never seen a person with a figure like hers until you. A split was perfect. Sorry I didn't tell you. " The girl extended out her palm for the glasses and Rhiannon eyed her skeptically. "I didn't record. The memory filled up before you had your shirt off." Regretful, brown eyes dropped their gaze.

She stood for a long moment, her head craned aside and her face wrinkled in an incredulous wince. Finally, she let out a puff of a breath and handed the glasses back. "Fucking porties. Get out of here."

With a shake of her head, the Captain squatted down to gather her clothes, her drooping, defeated erection pinned between her thighs and her breasts while the girl fetched her jumpsuit and dressed herself with ease, clothed by the time her older lover had her pants back on. The girl stood there for a moment, messing with the glasses Rhiannon secured her bra and slip on her blouse before she noticed the girl was still waiting. "What?"

"Can I get a picture with you? As... Serena?"

She exhaled slow and loudly, her patience obviously tried. "Can't you alter one? The way they make it look like she has a dick?"

"That's not the same. This is just for me. The memory."

For a long moment, Rhiannon glared at her in a way that was clearly annoyed but didn't say no and the girl rushed in under her arm, taking off the glasses. She held them at arms' length while her other hand reached around her as far as she could to tug away the open blouse and expose the _BoulderHolder_ bra, then mashing her fingers into the outer curve of her boob. With a practiced push of a button, the screen displayed forward in a 'selfie mode.'

"Please smile. Just for a second."

With a deep breath, Rhiannon forced an insincere grin for a moment, the digital remap of her face to Serena Stardancer's perfectly convincing. The girl snapped several pictures and surely one of them would turn out. "Now go." The girl kissed her cheek with a girlish giggle and slipped out from under her arm. "Thanks for the ride! It was everything I was hoping for and more. Your dick is HUGE."

Like that was something splits were ever insecure about. 'It fits' was much more of a compliment. Rhiannon leaned back against the wall they'd fucked against, watching the nubile townie girl strut away with her head held high, prideful for the slight limp in her step. She started to button her blouse, getting halfway up before she sighed and looked at the time on her wristcom. Almost an hour has passed so there were two more to go before the Hecate could leave this shithole station.

She rolled back her head, looking at the ceiling past a face full of her own, auburn hair.

"I need a fucking drink."

**The End**


End file.
